


A Faketastic Fix-Up

by Saone



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saone/pseuds/Saone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After what happened at Ferris Air, Barry would have been happy to live the rest of his life without seeing Leonard Snart’s face again. But Snart has dug himself into a particularly odd sort of hole, and when Barry realizes he might be able to use Snart's predicament to his advantage… Well, what’s a little fake dating between arch enemies?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Faketastic Fix-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Not betad, grammarians beware.
> 
> As of now, there is nothing serious or angsty about this fic. That might end up changing (oh, who am I kidding, like Leonard Snart doesn’t LIVE for drama), but for now, it’s fluff speed ahoy.

Barry, morning coffee in hand, checks his watch as he quickly - but not _too_ quickly - walks towards the alley closest to Jitters. He’s got five minutes until his shift starts, and once he can get out of sight, his superspeed will get him to the station in seconds. 

He’s not going to be late for work. In fact, he’s going to be a couple minutes early. The thought nearly makes him giddy.

Then he rounds the corner into the alley and finds Leonard Snart leaning against one of the buildings.

Barry’s entire body slumps. “Oh, are you kidding me,” he mutters.

“Hey Barry,” Snart says, the name rolling off his tongue and leaving a little half smirk in its wake. In casual, weather-appropriate clothes, and with no ridiculous parka or cold gun in sight, the man looks disturbingly normal. 

Barry still wants to punch his stupidly symmetrical face. A lot.

He thinks about just speeding away, but Snart obviously sought him out for a reason. And Barry thinks it’s a pretty good bet that if he doesn’t deal with the man now, he’ll just have to later. So Barry plants his feet and puts his shoulders back a bit. 

“What the hell do you want, Snart?” he asks, trying to sound authoritative and in control - even though he was just ambushed in an alley, and before his morning coffee even!

“Well, that’s a fine way to greet someone.” Snart slowly straightens up and starts to amble towards the mouth of the alley. “No hello? No how have you been?” 

Barry can feel his back molars grind together. “I know how you’ve been,” he grits out. “You been committing crimes, and lying, and robbing people, and hurting them, and being an all around creep.”

Snart pretends to wince. “Ouch. I guess that little speech stuck with you, huh?” 

“It’s certainly a lesson I’m not going to forget,” Barry says. “Now, I’ll ask again, what do you want?”

Snart purses his lips a bit, like what he’s about to say is going to be unpleasant. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he shakes his head once, and says, “I realize that our last meeting was a bit… unfortunate, but-”

“Unfortunate?” Barry says, incredulity making his voice go up a few notches. “Unfortunate?! You _betrayed_ me. You helped a bunch of very, _very_ dangerous people escape. You nearly got me killed. Again!”

“I’m aware of what I did, Barry,” Snart says slowly, “and, in hindsight, that was… wrong of me. I suppose.”

Barry’s eyes narrow. “You suppose?”

“Yes. And I…” Snart’s mouth screws up even more, and he swallows hard, like he’s trying to keep his breakfast down. “I… _apologize_ for my actions.”

“No you don’t,” Barry says. “To apologize for something would require a sense of guilt or shame, and you don’t have either of those.”

Snart inclines his head a bit. “True. But, I can acknowledge that I made a dick move, so...”

“Well, you are a criminal, and a liar, and a thief,” Barry says, trying to mimic Snart’s own tone when he said those very words to Barry, “so I guess dick moves _are_ in your wheelhouse. Is that it? Are we done? Because I really don’t want to look at your face right now.” 

“No,” Snart says quickly. The sour lemon look is back full force. “I need… I need to ask a favor.”

Barry stares at him for a moment. “Are you…” He looks around the alley. “Am I being punked? Is your sister hiding behind the dumpster with a camera phone right now?”

“I’m being serious,” Snart says. 

“Well, then, in that case, _no_! I’m doing you any favors! Are you nuts?!”

“What if it involves saving the city?”

“Does it?” Barry asks skeptically.

Snart sighs. “No, but just-”

“Then I’m outta-” Barry cuts himself off as Snart steps in close and grabs Barry’s forearm. Barry gaze flicks down to Snart’s hand, then back up to those icy blue eyes. It’s a reversal of the last time they were so close, but this time it’s not in a dark and dingy bar. They’re in broad daylight, and Barry can’t help but take better stock of the man before him.

Barry is more than a little bothered by how… visually pleasing Snart is when he’s not smirking or sneering. 

Or talking at all really.

“Look,” Snart says, loosening his grip, but not letting go of Barry completely, “you remember why I said I freed those meta humans? I wanted them to owe me. The same way you owe me for not letting you die on that airfield, and you _know_ without my intervention, you wouldn’t have walked away from that.”

“Without your _intervention_ in letting everyone escape, I wouldn’t have been in that position in the first place!”

Snart waves his free hand. “Details. The point is, I saved your life, and I didn’t have to. You owe me.”

Snart’s ‘logic’ made Barry’s head hurt. “So, what, I do this favor for you and we’re square - even though I still strongly dispute the fact that I-”

“No,” Snart says, “ we would be more than even. I would owe you.” He releases Barry’s arm and takes a step back. “A lot. I would do anything you asked of me. No more ulterior motives. No more double crossing.”

Barry thinks for a minute, trying to look at as many angles as he can. “So, if I asked you to turn yourself in…”

A smile plays around Snart’s mouth. “Anything that wouldn’t result in a loss of my freedom,” he says. “That is non-negotiable.”

Barry takes a deep breath. He can practically hear Joe and Cisco telling him he’s being an idiot for not running out on Snart already, and his mind’s eye is filled with nothing but Caitlin’s disapproval face. He should leave Snart to whatever mess the man has managed to make for himself.

But if he’s in real trouble - in real danger - could Barry walk away from that?

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Barry finds himself asking.

“You can trust that what I’m going to tell you I would rather not share with anyone,” Snart says. “You can trust that coming to you with this particular… problem, is an act of a desperate man.”

Now Barry’s really starting to get concerned. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Snart?”

“I…” Snart shakes his head. “Not here. Not now. Meet me at Saints and Sinners tonight. Seven.”

“Why can’t you just tell me now?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m going to need a lot of alcohol to get through this. And, for another…” Snart looks at his watch. “You’re late for work.”

Barry’s body jerks so hard he nearly drops his coffee. “Dammit!” His feet start to move before Barry even makes a conscious decision to run, but he’s still not fast enough to escape Snart giving him one last smirk.

*****

It’s a few minutes shy of quarter past when Barry finally slides onto the bar stool next to Snart.

“You’re late,” Snart says before he hides what looks like it might be a smile by taking a sip from his beer bottle.

“Shut up,” Barry says. He shakes his head as the bartender starts to approach him. The bartender scowls, then flicks his eyes to Snart and backs off.

“You know,” Snart says, drawing the words out, “for someone who can run faster than the speed of sound you have a nasty habit of-”

“Yeah, yeah, I _know_.” Barry says peevishly. “I’ve heard it before. Don’t _you_ start.”

Yes, that’s definitely a smile. “Okay.” Snart shifts on his stool a bit. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come.”

“Believe me, I’ve been second guessing this decision, like, every other minute. But I’m late because I had to stop a bank robbery.” 

“Oh?” Snart raises an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”

“I didn’t stop to ask their names,” Barry says. “I just took their weapons and tied them up.”

“Why, Mr. Allen,” Snart practically purrs, “I didn’t know you went in for that kind of thing.”

Barry can feel his cheeks heating up, but there’s no way he’s going to let Leonard Snart and his innuendo get the best of him. “Do you mean stopping criminals?” Barry asks with a glare. “Or saving innocent lives? Or do you mean-”

“Yeah, I’m not drunk enough for this.” Snart drains the beer in his hand, then motions to the bartender for another. “You want anything, Scarlet? They’ve still got those pickled eggs I told you about.”

“I’m good. Thanks. And can we just get on with it? What’s this favor you need?”

Snart stares at him for a moment, like he’s trying to use those pale, icy eyes to bore into Barry’s soul. “Let’s move this to a booth,” he says. He grabs his fresh beer, slides off his stool, and stalks across the nearly empty bar.

Barry sighs and rolls his eyes, but he follows Snart to one of the booths against the far wall. The vinyl benches are cracked, but stain-free. Barry takes the one opposite Snart and leans his elbows on the surprisingly non-sticky table between them.

“Okay,” Barry says, “we’re at the bar, we’re in a booth, and you’ve got alcohol in your system; can you please tell me what this-”

“My sister thinks we’re dating.” Snart makes a face and takes a long pull from his beer bottle.

Barry opens and closes his mouth a few times. When he’s finally able to speak, the only thing that comes out is, “Pardon?”

“My sister, Lisa… you remember Lisa?

Barry nods.

“Well, she thinks we’re dating.”

“W-why…” Barry runs his hands over his head and tries to put his mind back into working order. “Why would she think that?”

“Because I told her we were,” Snart says simply.

“ _What_?”

Snart growls a bit, then rolls his shoulders a few times and cracks his neck. “Look, you have a sister, right?”

“Iris isn’t really my-”

“Close enough. Hasn’t she ever pestered you about your love life, or lack thereof?”

“Um-”

“Lisa kept telling me I was going to die alone,” Snart says. “I told her I was probably going to die surrounded by a bevy of law enforcement types. For some reason, she didn’t find that reassuring. Long story short, after much irritation and not-so-idle threats involving creating profiles for me on dating websites, I told her I was seeing someone, and, for whatever reason, instead of just making someone up, I used you.”

Barry reaches under the table and pinches the inside of his thigh through his jeans. He’s definitely awake. “You… you told your sister - Golden Glider, that sister - that you were dating the Flash?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I told her I was dating you-you. Barry Allen you.” Snart shakes his head. “God, dating a superhero… I’d never hear the end of it.”

“But even me-me works in law enforcement!” Barry says.

“I didn’t know that when I first met you. And you didn’t know about my background either. It’s actually a nice story. See, we-”

“Stop!” Barry says, holding up both hands. “I do not want to hear about our fictional meet cute.”

“You’re going to have to hear about it eventually.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I-”

“If you’re going to play your part successfully, then, yes, you will,” Snart says. “You don’t want Lisa to get suspicious, do you?”

There’s a sinking feeling in Barry’s stomach as everything starts to come together. “Snart… what exactly is this favor you need from me?”

“I need for you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Snart says matter-of-factly. 

Barry stares at him for a few seconds before he says, “Are you nuts? I mean, are you actually, certifiably-” 

“Desperate, Scarlet. I’m desperate.” Snart leans in across the table. His eyes are darker in the low light of the booth, but no less intense. Barry feels pinned to his seat, like a particularly large and flustered bug.

“You think I don’t know how _stupid_ this whole thing is?” Snart asks. “I know. I am _aware_. But I can’t let _her_ know. If Lisa finds out what I’ve done, I will never - NEVER - hear the end of it. Life will not be worth living. And I like living my life.”

“But, still-”

“But nothing,” Snart says almost viciously. “I’m not asking you to compromise your virtue. Or your morals. Or your-”

“You’re asking me to get into bed, literally, with a known criminal!”

Snart rolls his eyes and sits back. “Oh, for… Pretending to be boyfriends doesn’t involve real sex. It doesn’t even have to involve fake sex. I’ll tell Lisa you're saving yourself for marriage. How about that?”

“So your sister can think I’m some kind of old-fashioned, prudish-”

“What have I done?” Snart mutters. “What the hell have I done?” He makes a pained face and chugs the rest of his beer.

Barry makes his own pained face and tries to pull himself together. Again. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. I just… Okay. You kind of hit me with a lot, and I just needed some time to process. Okay. So you… you want me to be your… pretend boyfriend.”

“Just for a few weeks,” Snark says. “You come by the apartment. Let Lisa see you and I go out places. Maybe we’ll all have dinner together once or twice. And then we’ll both decide we’re headed in different directions with our lives - you know, with the whole criminal and law enforcer thing - and we’ll break up. It’ll be tragic. I’ll eat some ice cream, maybe knock over a few jewelry stores, and then get on with my life. My very happy, single life.”

“And then your sister will come gunning for me because she’ll think I broke your heart,” Barry says. “I don’t think so. No mutual break-up. And no eating ice cream. You’re dumping me, and you’re gonna do it hard.”

“So you want me to be the bad guy?”

“You _are_ a bad guy, Snart!”

“Oh. Right.” Snart starts to reach for his bottle again, then scowls and cranes his neck toward the bar. “ _Fine_. I’ll dump you. And it’s Len.”

“What?”

“You can’t keep calling me Snart,” Snart says, still looking towards the bar. “Not if we’re fake-dating. It’d sound weird. Call me Len.”

“Oh. Okay. Len.” That does feel nicer coming out of his mouth than Snart. “And you’re going to have to stop calling me Scarlet.”

Snart’s - no, no, _Len’s_ \- head whips around. “But I like calling you Scarlet.”

“You call the Flash Scarlet. I’m just plain Barry Allen, remember?”

Len sighs. “True. Although...” Len’s eyes dart down to Barry’s chest then back up to his face. “Even without the suit, you’re not exactly plain. Barry Allen.” The smirk comes back, but this one is different somehow. Like, it’s less annoying and more… appreciative. 

Barry blinks a few times, then he clears his throat and ducks his head a bit. “If’ we’re doing this - and I haven’t officially said yes, yet - we should probably go on a practice date, or something. Just to iron out any kinks.” Barry makes a face. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“I can’t believe I’m not going to make fun of you for saying that. Oh, look, this relationship has already helped me grow as a person.” Sn-Len taps the bottom of his empty bottle on the table. “I’m gonna need another one of these. Sure I can’t interest you in something? You look like you could use it.”

Barry shakes his head. Len gives him a searching look, then slides out of the booth. Barry watches him walk away.

It’s not a bad view.

Barry groans softly and somehow manages to resist the urge to smack himself. That’s wrong. This whole thing is wrong. He should just get up and speed out of there before Snart - LEN - gets back to the table.

Snart - Len, Len, Len - dug his own hole, and now he should have to lie in it, and have that hole filled in by his little sister’s scorn and derision. 

And, honestly, his plan isn’t just wrong, it’s farcical. It’s like a bad sitcom episode. There’s no possible way it could work. 

So… why exactly isn’t Barry leaving?

Snart is a liar and a thief. He’s also smart, and cunning, and is borderline brilliant at strategy. And he’s devious in a way that Barry and the rest of the Star Labs team is not. Barry still thinks the man could be an asset even after his betrayal at the airfield. And if Barry could be the one holding something over Snart for a change, well… it’s worth thinking about.

_Len_ saunters - and there’s really no other word for it - back to the table. He’s got a new beer in each hand.

“I figure if you’re teetotalling it, you can make sure I get home okay,” he says. “You know, like a good boyfriend should and all.”

Barry waits until Len gets settled, then he leans across the table. “What’s in this for me?”

There’s a second’s pause as Len opens his new bottle. “Like I said this morning. You do this and I will owe you. Big time.”

“What does that even mean, though?”

Len takes a deep breath. “It means, Scar… _Barry_ , that I’m yours whenever you need me. No more sabotage. No more betrayal. You will have my complete loyalty in whatever your do-gooder heart might come up with.” He takes a swig. “As long as it doesn’t impact my regular activities, of course..”

“So you still won’t give up being a criminal?” Barry asks. He leans back and folds his arms over his chest. “Even if that’s the one thing that’ll get me to agree to do this for you?”

Len stares at Barry. After a moment, he narrows his eyes and tilts his head ever so slightly. “If that’s the only way you’ll play along, then… I guess I’ll be facing the music with my sister.”

“Really?” Barry asks. “I thought your life wouldn’t be worth living?”

“It’s called hyperbole. That means that someone-”

“I know what hyperbole means,” Barry says with a glare.

“I told you before, Scarlet. This is who I am. This is what I do.” Len chuckles. “You know, I think I read somewhere that relationships where one person tries to fundamentally change the other always fail.”

Barry shrugs and says, “I had to try, though, didn’t I?”

Len squints at him.

“The original truce still stands,” Barry says, “with the added caveat that if I call, you come, no matter what.”

Something that looks suspiciously like relief flits over Len’s face. “Agreed.”.

“And no backstabbing, double crossing, double-dealing, turn coat-”

“Barry,” Len says solemnly, “if you do this for me, my loyalty will be yours. No questions asked.” He pauses for a moment. “No, scratch that. Considering all the weird shit that’s been going on in this city lately, I’ll definitely be asking some questions.”

“Understandable.” 

“But I’ll be on your side, and I’ll help you any way I can.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect any of your criminal activity,” Barry says.

“A guy has to make a living.”

“Uh huh. And if you do betray me again-”

“I won’t,” Len says, putting some force into it.

“But, if you do...” Barry pauses for effect, “I’ll tell Lisa everything. And I mean everything. I might even make some stuff up to make you look worse.”

One corner of Len’s mouth just barely quirks upward. “You wouldn’t.”

“All’s fair in love and war, right?” Barry scratches the back of his head. “And, I guess, in whatever this weird amalgamation is that we’ve got going.”

Len gives Barry a considering look. “Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought,” he muses.

“And with that vote of confidence…” Barry takes a deep breath. “I guess you should tell me about our fictional meet cute.”

“It’s a good story.”

“I’m sure.”

“You kind of come off as a little bit of an idiot though.”

“I’m used to that.”

“You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Good. So, what didn’t happen was....”

 

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> Up next, Dating: Suburbia Style!
> 
> No promises when it might be out. I'm going to try and have each story be as self-contained as possible just in case the muses go on strike.


End file.
